


The Question We Ask (over and over)

by Irrelevancy



Series: Pride is not the word [1]
Category: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Female-Centric, Lesbian Character, Martial Arts, Pre-Canon, Queer Themes, fem!Hak, queer realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5442707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrelevancy/pseuds/Irrelevancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Really Hak,</i> Yona scolded as she touched the cut cloth over Hak’s chest. <i>You should be more careful. You’re a girl, after all.</i></p>
<p><i>Don’t worry,</i> Hak replied, blinking, <i>I’m strong. I won’t lose.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Question We Ask (over and over)

**Author's Note:**

> fem!Hak is everything

For the longest time, Hak believed that Soo-Won was her first love.

It made sense, after all. The storybooks that Yona liked to read always told this story— falling in love with the childhood best friend. And like the childhood heroes, Soo-Won was handsome, and kind, and clever. Hak could examine Soo-Won’s vivid eyes and shining hair carefully under the bright daylight and think,  _Yes, I would like to stay with him forever_. And that was it. That was love.

Yona also loved Soo-Won— but in a different way than Hak did. Yona loved Soo-Won with eyes that were quick to widen with delight, but also quick to narrow in petulance, or jealousy, or hurt. Yona loved Soo-Won with her mane of hair done up, woven with gold pins and flowers. Yona loved Soo-Won with fluttering hands and shifting feet, and Hak watched upon all this with incredulity. It seemed all incredibly  _bizarre_  to Hak, that Yona’s cheeks would be so quick to flush, because when Hak looked at Soo-Won, she only wanted to grin, or maybe tell a joke or two. At first, Hak wrote it off as a personality difference— Yona’s heart was fiery like her brilliant hair, where Hak’s was raised by the winds to be a steadfast, casual thing— something she herself would never experience, simply because she didn’t love that way.

The year Hak turned thirteen, she realized how entirely, utterly  _wrong_  she had been.

That was the year of the martial arts tournament. All her time occupied by training in Fuuga, Hak hadn’t seen Yona or Soo-Won for months, so when she set off for the capital, it was with eagerness and excitement. Before she left though, Elder Mundok pulled her aside and handed her a vest, with lacings down one side.  _You’re growing, you idiot,_  he explained, an embarrassed red crawling up his neck.  _This is for your chest, since you insist wearing your robes all loose like that._

Hak wore her robes loose because that was how all the boys she trained with wore their robes, the V at the neck slipping easily loose to allow for wider ranges of motion. She actually refused to wear the vest at first (it was quite hot after all), but after catching the lingering gazes of men at the palace, she quickly learned to put on the vest first thing in the morning. It bound her breasts and made it hard to breathe during fights, but when Elder Mundock made nothing but a sorrowful expression when she complained, Hak tried to tell herself it was stamina training. Cardio. She never complained again, even asked Elder Mundock for another, so she could switch off when washing laundry. She was used to Mundock’s perpetual scowl, after all— that awkward, helpless expression was really no good.

The tournament was fun. Incredibly, incredibly  _fun_. Hak had known she was a good fighter— an excellent one, even— but never had she fully appreciated the scope of her power. During spars, Mundock would always act like her strength was just normal— during the tournament, Hak could see the moment her opponents’ (men, all men except for her) eyes widened in shock at how  _powerful_ Hak’s blows were. Hak could see their swords shaking, arms going numb, and she would  _strike_ , again, bringing down men twice her size and three times her age. And the spectators would scream. They cheered and yelled for her, praising her speed and genius, and even though Hak’s outward expression remained impassive for the most part, her heart pounded hungrily for more. More action, more fighting, more blood.

General Geun-tae was the strongest opponent she faced that day. She had watched his battle earlier, saw the wounded right arm, and knew she had to even the odds. Her left arm was a little slow, and Geun-tae actually got a blow in before Hak pushed him back— a diagonal slice right across Hak’s chest. Thinking little of it, Hak charged forward, spear in right hand now, and brought down Geun-tae with her blood sizzling under her skin.

He called her  _Raijuu_. Thunder, for her speed, and  _Beast_. Hak liked that. She liked that a lot.

After the battle though, Hak was quickly pulled aside by Mundock, Soo-Won, and Yona, and ushered into the bathing room. Yona kicked out Mundock and a blushing Soo-Won before telling Hak to strip down and wash.  _Really Hak,_  she scolded as she touched the cut cloth over Hak’s chest.  _You should be more careful. You’re a girl, after all._

_Don’t worry_ , Hak replied, blinking,  _I’m strong. I won’t lose._

_That’s not what I’m talking about! See how many layers I’m wearing?_  Yona tugged her robes apart at the collar and all of a sudden, Hak felt a tension course through her. It was like the feeling right before a strong strike landed, her whole body caught between the need to surge forward or jump back. Hak ended up turning away, averting her eyes from Yona’s pale, flawless skin, her cheeks burning hot.  _I know you’re strong Hak, but what if General Geun-tae’s cut had, you know, exposed you to everyone?_

_Does that really matter so much?_

_YES!_

And with very little aplomb, Yona yanked open Hak’s robes, taking the damaged vest with her. It wasn’t the first time Hak had been naked in front of Yona, but the way Yona now blatantly stared at her chest was embarrassing, to say the least. Her heart pounding, Hak jumped back and away, suddenly self-conscious. It was a fairly foreign feeling to her, and Hak didn’t like it at all, the way it made her shifty and hot and like she wanted to both laugh and cry. Yona, for her part, just looked quietly stunned.

_…Oh wow Hak,_  she finally said, after a bit.  _You’re a real woman._

_I don’t even know what that means, Princess,_  Hak muttered. Yona’s eyes lit like fire.

_It means you’re a grown-up now! You’re going to like a boy, fall in love, and he’ll look at you and fall in love with you and—_  She gasped.  _Oh no, what if Soo-Won looks at you? What if Soo-Won falls in love with you?!_

As Yona charged on with her soliloquy, the oddest feeling swept over Hak— odder than even the crazy self-consciousness she experienced just now. She would grow to recognize it later, this weighty sort of  _hopelessness_ , treat it as an old friend even. Hak would get to know intimately well the way it settled low in her gut and made her neck feel heavy. Even in the future, Hak would often think back to this moment, to Princess Yona’s definition of a woman, who Hak was supposed to be. She would often think how much she wanted to tell Yona that was  _wrong_ , Hak would never like a boy, fall in love. Not the love of fluttering hands and shifting feet, at least— not with Soo-Won, not with the handsomest men that crossed her path. Not in the way Yona would, the way Yona would do it  _right_. And Hak would laugh, and swallow her bitterness like medicine, get better and better at hiding each time she did.

But right then, Hak was thirteen, her whole body abuzz with emotions she hardly knew how to deal with. Some of the panic must have broken through and shown on her face because Yona was suddenly quiet, her hand on Hak’s face.

_Hey, hey Hak,_  she said, gently.  _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to just start yelling like that. You’re so beautiful, Hak. You’re tall and fit, and your hair’s growing out, and I was just surprised, I guess. You’re beautiful. Don’t be sad._

_I’m not sad,_  Hak replied. Her hands twitched at her sides, wanting to reach out; her feet shifted on the floor, skidding across water. And she understood. She finally understood Yona’s love, and wanted to cry, because everything had fallen apart. She was not in love with  _Soo-Won_ , not even close.

And when Hak reached out to weave trembling fingers into Yona’s hair, Yona leaned into it with big eyes and so much trust; Hak burned with shame. How could she impose her mess of feelings onto the Princess like that? How could Hak soil the purity of Yona’s feelings with– with whatever it was Hak felt burning along her spine, in her hands and feet? So Hak withdrew her hand, blinked, smoothed out her expression.

_I’m alright Princess, you don’t have to worry._

That was the first time Hak ever lied to Yona. It would hardly be the last.


End file.
